


Something Ends, Something Begins

by ajstyling



Series: Drabbles and Drabbles and Drabbles, Oh My! [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crimson Flower Route, F/M, Post-Derdriu, Post-Time Skip, drabble challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22307950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajstyling/pseuds/ajstyling
Summary: Post Derdriu, Claude passes through Fódlan’s Locket.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan
Series: Drabbles and Drabbles and Drabbles, Oh My! [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604812
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44
Collections: Those Who Drabble in the Dark





	Something Ends, Something Begins

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of the felannie server weekly drabble challenge. Prompt was: Inns/Taverns. Technically this was supposed to be between 200-500 words but I lost count somewhere and just kept writing.
> 
> Thank you to Mere for the prompt!

From a wooden bench, tucked away in the darkest corner he could find, Claude watched as the door to the tavern creaked open. Instinctually he pulled the hood he wore tighter around his face and slunk lower in his seat.

He had few friends here in Fódlan’s Locket. Edelgard’s promise of safe passage home meant little to him and even less to an Adrestian loyalist. Holst’s troops were hardly any better—resentment ran deep after Claude failed to defeat the empire at Derdriu. 

A small group of heavily armored and armed women walked through the door, their rambunctious laughter filled the room. Claude recognized them as members of the famed Goneril Valkyries. His mind raced to the quickest exits and he pretended to be enthralled by the meal on the table in front of him. If they caught him here, there’s no saying what they, or worse Holst, would do to him.

He listened carefully as the women sat down around the bar. Over their laughter he heard the sharp clacking of heels against the wooden floor as another person followed them into the taven. A straggler from their battalion perhaps? But since when do the Valkyries wear high heels?

A question for another day, he decided. He planned to make his break for the door as soon as the footsteps stopped and the person took their seat. He could hide out the night in some alley and escape the fortress at the light of dawn. It wasn’t the most dignified solution, but he had left most of his pride in Derdriu alongside the bodies of too many of his friends.

Instead of stopping, the footsteps drew closer and closer. A shiver of fear ran down his spine as the footsteps stopped in front of his table. 

“I don’t want to be mean,” said a familiar voice, “but when’s the last time you had a bath?”

Claude’s eyes shot up from the table.

“Hilda, how did you find me?”

“Well, you took the busiest southbound road from Derdriu,” Hilda took a seat across from Claude and helped herself to some of the food on his plate, “and you’ve been skulking around this fortress for two days now. Honestly it’s a miracle my brother hasn’t found you yet.”

A mixture of guilt, embarrassment, and fear flooded Claude’s cheeks with warmth.

“I thought I was being pretty stealthy.”

“Maybe. But I know all your tricks,” she winked.

An uneasy silence settled on the table as Hilda continued to help herself to Claude’s plate and he weighed how to proceed.

Hilda broke the silence first, “So, what’s the plan?”

“Plan?”

“Yeah. Where are we off to next?”

“We?”

Hilda giggled and patted his hand gently like an adult just asked an absurd question by a child.

“You,” she pointed at his chest, “and me.”

“Hilda—“ Claude started.

She plowed ahead, “I assumed you had some plans, but if not I have a couple ideas.”

“Hilda,” Claude said louder and firmer.

She looked up from the table, “Oh, sorry. Were you still eating that?”

He sighed. This was going to be more difficult than he imagined.

“It’s over, Hilda. The Alliance is over.”

Her expression morphed into something he couldn’t quite read. Somewhere between genuinely confused and mildly outraged. And then her face fell. A new wave of guilt crashed over him.

“But we’re not over, right?” She refused to meet his eyes.

He heard the hurt in her question and he knew himself to be the cause. _I’m the worst,_ he thought to himself. He reached out a hand and placed it on top of hers. Wordlessly she turned her hand over and let her palm rest against his. The calluses had been filed down—weeks of not needing to use an axe will do that—but her grip was firm as ever.

Are they over? Hand-in-hand Claude finally finds the bravery to say what he should have before he left Derdriu.

“Not if you don’t want to be.”

Her eyes shoot up, hurt replaced by resolve, “I don’t.”

Despite everything that’s happened. Despite all of the losses and failures, these words filled Claude with immeasurable comfort and joy. 

A smile stretched across his face, the first one in many days, “I did promise you we could go meet my parents when the war was over. Didn’t I?”

“You did,” she gave a smile to match his.

“I think it’s safe to say the war is over. At least for us. So, what do you say? Want to go meet my parents?”

She squeezed his hand tighter in her own, “I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday bash weekend is being planned for Hilda. Go here to learn more information and help us celebrate her birthday in style!!
> 
> I can also be found at:  
> Twitter: @ajstyyling  
> Pillowfort: ajstyling  
> Discord: ajsyling#6251


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